


Just Beneath the Skin

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, H/D Pet Fair 2016, Harry Potter Thinks Malfoy is Up to Something, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Light D/s Dynamics, M/M, Mentor Remus Lupin, Minor Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Misunderstandings, Nymphadora Tonks Lives, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Remus Lupin Lives, Rough Sex, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Werewolf Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: Draco is a new werewolf and has found a supportive mentor in Remus Lupin. Trying to deal with his monthly transformations and keeping it a secret is hard enough, but it's even more so when Harry insists on following Draco around thinking that he's up to something. Especially when Harry looks and smells good enough to eat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song 'Monster' by Skillet. The song itself is very true to Draco in this story, so give it a listen if you'd like :D
> 
> Thank you so much to the mods for their patience with me and granting me the extra time I needed to finish this. To gracerene, I adored your prompt and I hope I did it justice ♥
> 
> For [Prompt #101](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Td1Xj4ZNIqFDdQLtMpkOWEqn2hI5TEx8tEtrEU1u1U8/edit).

***

“I can’t believe he’s not here,” Harry murmured sadly, staring across the table at the empty seat where Ron normally sat. “It feels so wrong without him; it’s like there’s something missing from the very heart of Hogwarts.”

“Honestly, Harry,” Hermione retorted dismissively. “You saw Ron this morning. He’s even coming up for the next Hogsmeade weekend. ”

While Harry and Hermione had decided to return to Hogwarts for their seventh-year, as part of a small group dubbed ‘the eighth-years’, Ron had opted to work with George in the joke shop instead. It made sense, considering Ron was far more practical minded than academic, but Harry was still going to miss having him around.

“Besides,” Hermione added a touch more gently. “At least you get to have Professor Lupin here with you this year.”

Harry swiveled in his seat to look at the Head Table, where Remus was sat making conversation with Hagrid. Remus obviously felt eyes on him as he looked up at Harry and gave him a small smile before returning his attention to Hagrid.

Remus and Tonks had both almost died at the Battle of Hogwarts, but both had managed to pull through. Tonks was still on Maternity Leave from the Aurors, and was living in Hogsmeade so that Remus could be close to his family while he resumed his Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching role. It had taken a lot of convincing, and eventually Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current Minister for Magic, to promise Remus that any hate directed towards him would be treated as a crime.

“I just hope nobody tries to start any trouble with him,” Harry said darkly, glancing over to the Slytherin table.

As always, Harry found himself instinctively drawn to a head of platinum blond hair. Malfoy looked pale and sullen, picking at his dinner glumly. He certainly didn’t look happy to be back at Hogwarts, and honestly, Harry couldn’t understand why Malfoy had bothered if he was going to be so miserable about it.

“What do you think Malfoy’s problem is?” Harry mused to Hermione. “He looks downright depressed, don’t you think?”

“I haven’t paid Malfoy much attention, to be honest,” Hermione answered, giving Harry a concerned smile. “Besides, he may have been cleared of all charges—thanks to _your_ testimony, I’ll remind you, Harry—but Malfoy still isn’t going to be particularly popular. I think I’d be miserable if I knew most people hated me.”

“Well he didn’t exactly do himself any favours,” Harry reasoned, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his fist. 

“Harry,” Hermione said softly. “I miss having Ron around, too. Even I know it isn’t going to be the same without him.”

Harry sighed in response.

“But,” Hermione continued importantly. “I’m keeping my mind busy by focusing on the N.E.W.T.s. So how about instead of moping about Ron, or fixating on Malfoy, you concentrate on your schoolwork and on getting the grades you want? Didn’t you say that you specifically came back for eighth-year so that you could earn a job rather than getting one based on your name?”

“I did say that,” Harry answered, a smile coming to his face for the first time that night. “But I’m not going to start revising nine months before the exams. That must be a record, even for you.” 

Dinner began drawing to a close, and Harry jumped to his feet as students started to depart the Great Hall.

“I’m just going to check in with Remus before I go to the dorm,” Harry told Hermione, catching Remus’s eye and giving him a small wave.

“Don’t you think you should do that tomorrow, Harry? You really need to be-”

“I won’t be long, don’t worry,” Harry cut in, patting Hermione’s shoulder lightly. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Harry ignored Hermione’s huff as he made his way over to Remus, battling the swarm of students all trying to push him in the opposite direction.

“Hello, Harry,” Remus said as Harry approached. “I thought you’d have wanted to head down to your new dormitory already.”

“It can wait five minutes,” Harry answered with a wave of his hand. “I just wanted to check in with you. Are you pleased to be back?”

Remus smiled gently. “I am, though I’m somewhat apprehensive about lessons tomorrow. I suppose I’ll just have to see what happens in the morning.”

“Well don’t be afraid to report it anyone says or does anything horrible,” Harry urged protectively. “It doesn’t even matter if they’re a first year; they’re old enough to learn.”

Remus chuckled. “Try not to worry about me, Harry; I’ll be alright. Now you should be getting off to your dorm; eighth-years still have a curfew, you know. Come and see me before first period, if you’d like.”

Harry bid Remus goodnight and started making his way to his dormitory. He got to the third floor when he remembered that the eighth-years had their own dorm on the first floor, and had to backtrack down the stairs.

Hidden behind a portrait of a scholarly lady, the eighth-year dorm was located conveniently close to the library. Evidently McGonagall thought that that they would be all as determined to succeed as Hermione was, and would therefore appreciate the close proximity to the library.

Harry had to knock to get inside, and he gave Hermione a sheepish grin when the portrait swung open from the other side.

“Next time you might want to wait for the password before you go running off,” Hermione said lightly, welcoming Harry in. “It’s _laborare_ , for the record.”

The new common room was similar to the Gryffindor one, with its plush armchairs and sofas, and roaring fire. Rather than gleaming in red and gold, however, the walls and furniture were all a much more subdued cream colour, with accents of multi-coloured stripes made up of the Hogwarts house colours. It was very inter-house friendly, Harry thought.

In the middle of a common room there was a small table with a lone stone placed upon it.

“The other thing I was going to tell you before you ran off,” Hermione said, picking up the stone and running her finger over the top of it. “Is that there’s only two to a room, and we were allowed to pick our roommates. However as you just couldn’t wait to see Remus, you’re left with the last choice.”

Hermione tossed the stone at Harry and he caught it easily. The number three was scratched into it, and Harry guessed that was his room number.

“Great; I bet I’m left with Malfoy,” Harry groaned, as Hermione rolled her eyes. “What? You said yourself he’s not going to be very popular. Why would anyone else want to share a room with him willingly.”

“Even if it is Malfoy,” Hermione said gently, wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulders and guiding him to a door on the left side of the common room. “It won’t matter because you’re going to be busy concentrating on your schoolwork instead of him, right?”

“Yes, mother,” Harry teased, grinning when Hermione pretended to smack the back of his head. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

Harry pushed the door open and stepped into a short hallway. There was one door directly opposite, and two doors on the left wall and two on the right. Number three was on the left side, next to the door on the far wall. 

Harry paused nervously before he opened it. What should he say to Malfoy? Should he act normally, or should he pretend he’d never met Malfoy before and make a fresh start as roommates? Or should he just ignore him and focus entirely on his schoolwork?

No, Harry could never focus _that_ much on his schoolwork.

So with a resigned sigh, Harry pushed open the door to his new room, and instantly froze at the sight of his roommate sat on the bed nearest the window.

“You’re not Malfoy,” Harry said blankly.

“No, I’m not,” Blaise Zabini agreed. “Tell me, Potter; do you often find yourself opening bedroom doors to find Draco waiting for you?”

Harry felt his cheeks flush despite himself. “No,” he spluttered quickly. “I just thought he’d be the person nobody else wanted to share a room with.”

“Actually that would be me,” Zabini muttered darkly, before his lips curled in a semi-smirk. “Don’t look so guilty, Potter; you didn’t offend me.”

Harry let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Good. I mean, I know we don’t get on but if we’re roommates for the year I’d rather we weren’t awful to each other.”

“Do we not get on?” Zabini mused. “I hardly know you. Have we ever even spoken before?”

Harry hummed thoughtfully. “Well, no. But I thought because you’re so close to Malfoy-”

“Great,” Blaise cut in. “I get rid of one only to get another. You talk about Draco a lot, don’t you, Potter?”

“I don’t!” Harry protested indignantly. “I’m just surprised somebody wanted to actually sleep in the same room as him, that’s all.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” Zabini said with a wave of his hand. “I’m used to tuning people out. And if you must know, nobody chose to share a room with Draco. Somehow that lucky bastard got his own room. Wouldn’t even tell me how he did it either.”

“Did he give you a hint?” Harry asked, unable to contain his curiosity. 

“I don’t know,” Zabini muttered with distaste. “Now take your thoughts of Draco to bed with you, Potter; I require exactly eight hours of undisturbed sleep, or I will be very unpleasant in the morning.”

Harry would have protested that he wouldn’t take thoughts of Malfoy to bed with him, but Harry knew deep down that just wasn’t true.

***

Draco woke up to the sounds of birds singing outside his window, while the morning sunlight shone down on his clutter-free carpet. The bathroom door was open, leading to a shower where he could spend as long as he liked without someone kicking him out. It was peaceful, serene, and all his.

Draco hated it.

Having his own private room was something Draco had wanted for years, but now he’d got one he’d gladly trade it back if it meant getting rid of the reason he’d been granted his own room in the first place.

There was no chance of that ever happening, though, so Draco was stuck as he was. The curse he’d been tainted with made even the good things in his life rotten, so he wasn’t even surprised that he was miserable.

He barely found the energy in him to drag himself out of bed to shower and scrub at his skin with his once favourite lemon scented soap, which now smelt overbearing and clogged his senses. Eighth-years were able to wear their own clothes rather than a uniform, but whereas before Draco would have picked out his finest outfit, instead he went for baggy jeans and a scruffy jumper which hid most of his body and made him look like everybody else.

Draco’s fingers trembled as he picked up the Muggle coloured contact lenses which he wore daily now to hide the flecks of amber in his eyes. He blinked as he studied his reflection; even though the grey was a perfect match, Draco was certain that people would take one look at him and know what he was hiding.

With a sigh, Draco picked up his bag and left the room, heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Last night had been overwhelming, the smells and sounds too intense for his now very sensitive senses. The morning seemed to prove no different when Draco stepped through the large doors. If anything it was worse, the smell of putrid grease from bacon and sausages and eggs tickling his nose.

Draco glanced towards the small table which sat between the tops of the House tables and the professor’s table, new this morning for the eighth-years. One look at Blaise’s sullen face told Draco that Blaise hadn’t got his required eight hours of sleep last night, and Draco really wasn’t in the mood for dealing with Blaise on top of his already bad morning.

So Draco turned on his heels and fled, walking like he was in a dream until he reached the room where Remus had told Draco he could find him.

Remus answered the door with a warm smile, and welcomed Draco inside.

“Coffee?” Remus offered, and the cup shook as Draco took it in hand.

“I don’t think I can do this, Remus,” Draco said, fingers clenching around the cool porcelain. “There’s too many people; all my senses are in overdrive.”

“Crowds take a lot of getting used to,” Remus murmured. “I’d had a few years of getting used to sensitive senses before I arrived at Hogwarts, but I imagine it would be very overwhelming for a new werewolf such as yourself.”

Draco hissed at the mention of his condition, still half-hoing he was stuck in some horrible nightmare he’d wake up from soon. 

But it had been three months since he’d been bitten, and if it was a nightmare he’d have woken up already. Unfortunately, his being a werewolf was very real.

“And it’s not just that!” Draco growled. “I can’t stop being paranoid, thinking that all of a sudden somebody is going to jump up and tell everyone what I am. Blaise has already been on at me about how I’ve gotten a room to myself, and what am I supposed to tell him? 'Sorry Blaise, it’s just that I turn into a monster once a month and I thought it’d be better to keep that to myself?' No, I just told him it was none of his business, which got him in a mood.”

Remus hummed thoughtfully. “How about you apologise when you see him next, and say you’re embarrassed about it but you’re suffering from night terrors and it was decided you were better off having a room to yourself? That way you get back on his good side, while offering him an explanation which he can’t really argue with.”

Draco huffed, but he knew it was a good idea. Night terrors made him sound pathetic, but it was better that than telling Blaise the truth. 

“You know, Draco,” Remus continued gently. “I lived in a shared dormitory for over a year before my friends discovered what I was. With the added bonus of privacy, you should have no problem in keeping your secret unless you choose to tell somebody. People have no reason to suspect that you’re a werewolf, so they won’t be looking for signs.”

“I guess you have a point,” Draco said stiffly, but he felt himself relax as he studied Remus’s calm form. “I know I’ve told you this before, but I really do appreciate your support through all of this. I know you didn’t have to help me, especially considering who I am.”

Remus waved his hand dismissively. “Who you were is not who you are now,” he smiled. “And I know how hard it can be, not just for keeping the secret but dealing with the emotional side of things, too. I’m more than happy to help you, Draco.”

It felt good to Draco, to have Remus’s unwavering support. Of course it had left him feeling guilty on occasion that Aunt Bellatrix had tried to kill Remus’s wife, but as Remus had pointed out numerous times, Draco wasn’t Bellatrix. 

“Oh, and a suggestion for meal times,” Remus added. “You’re better off forcing yourself to go, but start off perhaps grabbing food to take to your room, and then start staying for ten minutes, then for twenty, and build up your tolerance so you don’t find yourself with a sensory overload. And try chewing gum; I have some peppermint, if you’d like.”

“Thanks, but I’m more of a spearmint type,” Draco smiled. “I’ll try that, though. I better get off to class now, I suppose.”

Draco downed the rest of his coffee and stood to leave. But as he approached the door, he was suddenly hit with a pleasantly sweet smell, like sugar and cinnamon. Rather than clogging his senses it seemed to refresh them, and Draco felt his knees go weak as the door opened and that scent got even stronger.

Harry Potter stood in the doorway, his vibrant green eyes glowing as they widened in surprise at seeing Draco. His lips were plump and red, and Draco felt his eyes drawn to them as Potter pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. 

Potter seemed oblivious as Draco watched entranced, fighting the urge to lick that part of Potter’s lip which was now flushed deeper red, almost like it was begging Draco’s mouth to claim it.

Draco shook his head, muttering a goodbye to Remus before he fled from the room. 

He could admit to himself that he’d never considered Potter ugly; in fact he secretly thought Potter was rather good-looking, but those feelings of lust and possessiveness were new. Werewolves didn’t have mates, so he couldn’t understand why Potter smelt and looked good enough to eat.

Draco would just have to avoid Potter from now on. He trusted himself not to pounce on Potter and assault him—he was a werewolf, not a rapist, after all—but Draco couldn’t handle being so enticed by somebody who wanted nothing to do with him. No, Draco’s job for the year was to keep up with his schoolwork while managing his monthly transformations and keeping it secret. 

Potter couldn’t be a priority for Draco this year.

Now if only Draco could stop thinking about those damn lush lips of Potter’s, that’d be a start.

***

Harry watched as Malfoy wrapped some meat and potatoes in a napkin and dropped them into his bag, before leaving the Great Hall without a word as if he couldn’t wait to be out of there.

“What? Doesn’t he want to sit with us?” Harry said to Hermione, nudging her with his elbow.

“Who?” Hermione asked, barely glancing up from her food.

“Malfoy, of course,” Harry answered as though it was obvious. “He just shoved his dinner in his bag and ran off with it.”

“Maybe he just wants to eat on his own,” Hermione suggested. “I don’t think it suggests anything bad.”

“I never said it did!” Harry protested, stabbing his potato with his fork.

Hermione just smiled at him and turned back to her own dinner.

“But guess what else I saw Malfoy do today,” Harry continued, pretending not to hear Hermione’s groan. “I went to see Remus, and Malfoy was with him. I asked Remus if Malfoy was causing him any trouble, and Remus said no and that Malfoy was just asking him a question about classes. _But_ ,” Harry added, “there were _two_ cups of coffee on the table, which meant obviously Malfoy had been there a while.”

“They were probably just having a chat. Remus is a teacher, Harry; he can’t divulge any of his student’s secrets with you,” Hermione said seriously. “Did you sleep alright last night?”

Hermione’s sudden change of topic caught Harry off guard.

“Er, I guess,” Harry answered with a shrug. “But not really; I’m still getting those nightmares.”

Hermione nodded sympathetically. “I know being back at Hogwarts must be hard for you, considering everything that happened here. And you know, Harry, fixating on Malfoy and thinking he’s up to something is only going to get you more on edge. Vol-Voldemort is finally gone; it’s time for you to move on and start a happier chapter in your life. I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel softened by Hermione’s concern for him. He knew that his head was still in a bit of a mess, which he’d been assured by various people was something very common for people who’d been involved in a war. And really, all Harry wanted was to know that the people he cared about were safe; Ron, Hermione, Remus...he supposed it only made sense that those same people more than likely felt the same way towards him.

“For you, Hermione, I’ll try,” Harry said, offering Hermione a smile.

Harry didn’t particularly know what he was going to try to do—try to be happy, perhaps—but Hermione’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled back at Harry brightly.

And when his thoughts began to drift back to Malfoy, Harry decided it was probably best to keep it to himself.

***

Draco thought his first week back at Hogwarts had gone as well as it could have done considering the circumstances. All it took was great avoidance of everyone bar Remus.

He should have known things were going too smoothly to last.

“Hey, Draco,” came Blaise’s aristocratic drawl.

Draco’s fingers froze over the handle to his room.

“Blaise,” Draco greeted, turning and giving his friend a curt nod. “I have an essay due tomorrow which I really need to get finished.”

“Funny,” Blaise said, sounding very unamused. “You spend so much time doing essays yet you’re falling behind. I never see you anymore, Draco.”

Draco felt a stab of guilt, before he remembered why it was that he didn’t spend time with Blaise. His skin prickled as he felt the infected blood run through his veins, and he had to clench his fingers so that Blaise didn’t see them trembling.

“Come and sit with me for ten minutes, at least,” Blaise asked, gesturing to his room. “Harry isn’t here yet.”

Draco resigned himself to spending ten minutes with Blaise. Remus’s friends had taken almost two years to discover the truth about him, so ten minutes should hopefully be no bother.

“Harry, hmm?” Draco said, ignoring the twinge of jealousy at hearing Potter’s first name spoken so easily on Blaise’s lips. “Friends with the Golden Boy, are we?”

“Something like that,” Blaise hissed. “You got your own room because of night terrors, yet somehow I ended up with a roommate who wakes me up every night screaming and thrashing around in bed; it’s impossible not to connect with someone you have to comfort after his nightmares night after night. Honestly, you should have shared a room with Harry and I should be in the single room. Then again, Harry would have easily caught onto your little secret.”

Panic coursed through Draco’s veins. Did Blaise know? Was this why he had called Draco to his room, to confront him about his Lycanthropy and warn him to leave Hogwarts and stay away from him?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Draco said coldly. He would deny everything Blaise said, and then maybe he could fake his own death and leave the country before word got out to anyone else about Draco’s secret.

Blaise frowned. “I meant your crush on Harry. Seriously, Draco, what’s wrong with you? I know you’ve been avoiding me, I never see you eat anymore, and you look like shit. Are you abusing potions like Theo used to? Or are you anorexic like Daphne? You can tell me, Draco; I want to help.”

“I’m not abusing potions _or_ anorexic,” Draco muttered, realising moments too late that either of those options would have been a perfect cover story. “And I don’t have a crush on Potter, for that matter.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. 

“But,” Draco continued with a pointed glare. “I am struggling with these _night terrors_. I don’t get much sleep, and much like you I need my eight hours to function, but I’m not getting that right now.”

“Tell me about it,” Blaise grumbled.

“I appreciate your concern, Blaise,” Draco pressed on, deciding he should probably stay on Blaise’s good side for now. “I’ll be fine, though; I just need some space.”

Blaise looked like he wanted to argue, but Draco was saved by Potter entering the room—although that opened up a whole new problem for Draco.

Draco felt his mouth watering as the heavenly scent from Potter hit him, so sweet and inviting on his tongue. Potter’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Draco, which only made that vivid green even more intense. 

Blaise cleared his throat, the sound carrying an amused lilt which Potter seemed oblivious to, but Draco picked up straight away. He took that as his cue to escape.

“Right, well I shall talk to you later, Blaise,” Draco said, making a point not to look at Potter. 

His cock was already half-hard beneath his trousers, and he hurried from the room before Potter’s alluring scent made him even crazier.

He slammed the door to his own room shut as soon as he was inside, collapsing against the door and shoving his hand beneath his boxers so he could get some relief.

It was madness, this. In class or in the hallways Draco was always able to pick up Potter’s scent above anyone else’s, but it was never too intense with the general smells and sounds of Hogwarts diluting it. However in such close quarters, Potter’s presence was so strong that it brought to life every one of Draco’s senses. He had always been aware of Potter, even before he was a werewolf, but now it was so much more than it used to be.

Using his fingers to bring him off, Draco imagined his cock sliding through Potter’s red lips, hot and soft, while Potter looked up at him with those bright green eyes all clouded over in lust. When Draco came, he imagined releasing over Potter’s face, the white so shocking against that red and that green, _marking_ Potter as his.

Marking. 

It was a good job Draco had finished, because that put him off sex straight away.

Fucking marking. Like he was some kind of dog and Potter was his bitch. 

Draco sank to the floor, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his head on them. Once upon a time he had played with the idea that one day he could prove to Potter that he was more than just a bully and a prat, and that they could become friends and maybe more. Now though, the only more to Draco was a monster, and who could love a monster?

And who even deserved to fall in love with one?

***

“Harry?”

Harry glanced up from his Transfiguration textbook to look at Blaise.

Normally Blaise exuded an air of casual elegance. He made polite conversation with Harry when they were together, looked and sounded angry when he had to wake Harry up from a nightmare but in actuality was quite gentle with him, and had a rather dry sense of humour which came out on occasion.

But this was the first time that Harry had seen Blaise looking concerned.

“Is everything alright?” Harry asked, letting his book fall onto the desk. 

Blaise looked uncertain for a moment, before standing tall and holding himself proudly. Harry stood too, because Blaise was taller than even Ron, and sitting down around Blaise made Harry feel positively tiny. 

“I need your help, Harry,” Blaise said slowly, hesitating for just a moment before adding, “with Draco.”

Harry frowned, although his heart rate had picked up at the sound of Malfoy’s name.

Harry really had been making an effort not to obsess over Malfoy, and even if he had noticed the way Malfoy seemed to avoid everyone, or how he visited Remus a _lot_ , or how he seemed to have days where his skin looked grey and his eyes looked red, Harry didn’t say anything because he’d made a promise to Hermione.

“The thing is,” Blaise started gingerly. “Draco isn’t himself at the moment. I know you’ve noticed; I’ve seen you watching him.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again after Blaise sent him a warning glare.

“I’ve tried talking to him, but he won’t tell me a thing,” Blaise continued. “And you’re known for your, er, nosiness and investigating into affairs that aren’t your own. I thought you could help me track Draco and find out what’s wrong with him.”

“For one thing, I'm not nosy,” Harry said sternly. “And another thing, while I would love to help you stalk Draco—not because I’m nosy; I’m just curious—I promised Hermione I would focus on school.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Come on, Harry; we both know you don’t enjoy focusing on school. How many hours have you spent playing with balls of parchment over studying? Besides,” Blaise added, plastering a rather unnatural smile onto his face. “I thought we were friends now. Don’t you want to help your friend?” 

“I know you’re trying to guilt me into helping you, but I thought you might like to know that you’re just coming off as creepy,” Harry teased. “But I will help you with your Malfoy investigation, just because I don’t like seeing him so withdrawn and unhealthy looking. I actually kind of miss being insulted by him whenever I see him. So what do you want me to do? Just follow him and see what he gets up to?”

“No, don’t follow him,” Blaise said quickly. “We’re investigators, not stalkers, Salazar, Harry. But maybe more subtly see what his routine is like and if anything looks odd. I’ll do the same and then we can share our findings and see if anything starts adding together.”

Harry wasn’t able to stop himself from grinning.

“What?” Blaise asked, bewildered.

“Nothing,” Harry answered, still smiling. “It’s just that this is the first time anyone’s actually agreed with me that somebody is acting differently, and the first time anyone’s _asked_ me to help, rather than me having to drag them along.”

“Great,” Blaise muttered. “I’m turning into more of a nerd than you.”

Harry thought he detected a hint of affection in Blaise’s tone.

***

Draco stretched his aching limbs, and instantly regretted it as pain shot through him. He groaned, rolling onto his hands and knees and forcing himself to his feet despite the pain.

This was his fifth full moon now—the second one he’d experienced since being back at Hogwarts—and Draco didn’t think he’d ever get used to the horrific pain during the transformations, or the lingering ache it left behind for days afterwards.

“Easy there,” Remus said, standing beside Draco in a flash and steadying him with his arm right before Draco fell. 

“My everything hurts,” Draco whined, dropping his head onto Remus’s shoulder as Remus escorted him awkwardly to the edge of the cage. 

Draco didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sight of bars surrounding him, either, like he was some kind of animal. Then again, Draco supposed he was one now.

Remus reached through the bars to grab the key that was hooked onto the wall, unlocking the door to the cage and then the main door of the large stone shack that led to the outside. As well as the two physical barriers protecting the outside world from two werewolves, a small wire fence ran around the outside of the building which gave a minor shock to anyone who ran into it; that defense was more of a deterrant than anything.

They pulled on their cloaks, though the material did little to help the chill in Draco’s bones. Being nude, and seeing Remus nude, was honestly the least of Draco’s problems; they saw each other in far worse states. No, it was the reminders of Draco’s monstrosity that got to him the most, like the cage, the self-inflicted claw marks on his skin, the teeth marks on the bars, and the blood staining the floors. Draco didn’t want to think what could happen if the barriers weren’t there to keep them locked away from everyone else.

Remus picked up a red flag that was attached to the side of the building and waved it into the air. Moments later, a flash of red caught Draco’s eye from the cottage up the hill—Tonks.

It was their code for Remus to let Tonks know he was back to human, and that it was safe for her to unlock the house. As usual, Tonks was ready for them with pain relieving potions and strong cups of tea, and a soft, warm bed was always waiting. She had been nothing but supportive of Draco despite their mutual murderous aunt, and had been almost as big a help as Remus.

Tonks smiled adoringly at Remus as he and Draco approached the cottage, and she gave Remus a tender kiss on the forehead as they made their way inside. Draco knew Remus was lucky to find someone who didn’t care about his Lycanthropy, and who wasn’t driven away by the stress of the full moon; Draco didn’t think he’d ever find somebody like that.

An unwilling flash of Potter’s face popped into his mind, all bright eyed and wild haired. Draco shook his head with a scowl; as if Potter would ever kiss Draco tenderly and smile at him as if Draco was the most wonderful thing he could possibly see.

Dragging himself inside, Draco downed the cup of tea and the potion, before eagerly collapsing into the bed that was made up. Remus collapsed beside him moments later, his weight on the bed a comfort to Draco. It was one thing going through the transformations, but at least Draco knew he didn’t have to do it alone.

“How are you feeling?” Remus murmured, his voice heavy with tiredness.

There was another thing about Remus; even though he was surely feeling just as terrible as Draco was, he always took the time to see to Draco before he saw to himself. He was a genuinely kind man, and Draco felt awful for being so cruel to him in the years before.

“Sore, empty, non-human; just the standard,” Draco grumbled, wincing when he accidentally knocked one of the more deep scratches on his arm. “I still keep hoping I’ll go to sleep and wake up and find out it was all just a nightmare.”

“I used to do that every night,” Remus admitted. “I still do, sometimes. But I try and focus on the people who matter to me; Tonks, Teddy, Harry, you…”

“Me?” Draco repeated, hating how childlike and nervous he sounded. Nobody had ever told him that he’d mattered before. He pulled the cover up over his face so that Remus couldn’t see the flush to his cheeks.

“Of course you,” Remus said, and even though Draco couldn’t see him he knew Remus was smiling. “I think you’ve been tremendously strong through this whole thing.”

“Despite my whining?” Draco started to laugh but it hurt his chest so he stopped, choosing to smile into the pillow instead.

“Despite that,” Remus assured him. “Now get some sleep; you’ll feel much better for it.”

Ignoring the pain, Draco reached his arm out from under the covers, and Remus grabbed his hand understandingly. It was entirely innocent, a touch Draco had once craved from his father as a child. It was comforting, and Draco fell asleep feeling utterly safe.

***

It wasn’t something that Harry liked to admit, but Malfoy really was attractive.

His pale skin, white-blond hair, and steel grey eyes would have made anyone else look washed out, but Malfoy made it work, looking like some kind of mythical ice prince. The autumn sun was shining in through the window, glinting off Malfoy’s hair and making it positively _glow_. Ignoring the bags under his eyes, Malfoy really was rather pleasing to look at.

Blaise nudged Harry with his elbow. “See anything you like?”

“What? No!” Harry said quickly. “I was just, er, daydreaming.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that one before.”

Ever since their agreement to investigate Malfoy’s behaviour together, Blaise had started spending a lot of time with Harry, sitting with him during classes and at mealtimes. Blaise and Hermione got on rather well, too, though they usually spoke about excessively intellectual topics that Harry found boring. It wasn’t quite the same as having Ron with them, but Blaise was actually a decent bloke. 

“So have you found anything interesting about Draco, or have you just been staring at him for the last two weeks?”

At least Blaise was decent _most_ of the time.

“I’ve not been staring at him,” Harry defended weakly, glancing quickly at Professor Flitwick who looked far too enthusiastic about his demonstration to notice Harry talking. “But I have noticed one thing—he spends a lot of time with Professor Lupin. Almost every time I go to see Remus, Malfoy is either there or just leaving.”

“Funny you should say that,” Blaise murmured. “I’ve noticed exactly the same thing. One night I went out for a fly and saw them taking a walk in the grounds together, and have you seen the way Draco looks at Remus?”

Harry nodded. He thought he’d been imagining the admiring looks that Malfoy kept shooting Remus during Defence lessons, but apparently they’d been real if Blaise had noticed them too.

“So what do you think it means?” Harry asked, sparing another glance at Malfoy who had his chin propped on his hand, and was looking very much like he was struggling not to fall asleep. 

“Oh, Harry, you are innocent, aren’t you?” Blaise said with a teasing smile. “Think about it. On one hand, we have Remus Lupin, a man who is almost forty, has faced years of rejection for being a werewolf, and has a wife and child and thus a standard, boring routine. Then we have Draco, a young man who has just survived a war, has a father who loves him but who feared the Dark Lord more, is suffering from night terrors which can leave people feeling vulnerable and alone—are you getting the idea yet?” 

Harry shook his head, which prompted Blaise to sigh dramatically.

“They’re having an affair!” Blaise hissed wildly. “It all makes sense!”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, a little too loudly. 

Flitwick frowned at him disapprovingly but carried on his demonstration. 

“Remus would never do that to Tonks,” Harry said, quieter that time. Then again...“I mean, he did want to leave her while she was pregnant so that he could help us defeat Voldemort...but that’s completely different!”

Blaise raised a brow. “Is it? Lupin obviously yearns for adventure but is stuck in a boring job with a boring routine. Draco is lost in a world of guilt and self-pity, and needs the approval of an older man to make him feel better. Trust me, Draco has almost as many daddy issues as you do.”

“I don’t have daddy issues,” Harry defended hotly, but Blaise ignored him.

“Look, Harry, it all adds together. I’ve seen Draco eating more now, and he doesn’t seem to be losing weight so I don’t think he has an eating disorder. And when Theo was abusing potions his lips were always stained slightly blue which is a clear sign of an addict—and Draco’s lips look fine. But Draco is avoiding everyone _but_ Lupin, and sees him far more often than any other teacher and student do; why else would you sneak out at night to see a professor unless you’re fucking?”

Harry’s nose crinkled at the crude way Blaise had phrased it, and even though he didn’t want to believe it to be true, Harry still felt a stab of jealousy at the implication.

“I still can’t believe Remus would do it,” Harry said, glancing at Malfoy again.

Had Remus really had Malfoy in his bed, his photos of Tonks and Teddy turned upside down so they couldn’t see the betrayal?

“You’ve not been listening to me, Harry,” Blaise muttered exasperatedly. “Lupin was probably sat at his desk, making a lesson plan while he looked at the photo of the wife he hardly sees. Then in comes this young man eager for the approval of an older man, willing to do anything to earn it. So this weary werewolf is confronted with somebody young and attractive who wants him despite his creature status, and who provides Lupin with an adventure, because how much more adventurous can you get than secretly cheating on your wife with a student? Draco’s of age so it’s frowned upon but not illegal, and they both get something out of it. Believe me, I didn’t want to think it was true, but I can’t think of any other reason why Draco would be seeing Lupin so much but being secretive about it.”

Harry frowned, his mind mulling over Blaise’s words. Harry didn’t want to think that Remus was willing to do such a thing, but he had tried to leave Tonks once before, and Malfoy did seem to be with Remus an awful lot.

“Shit,” Harry said. “I think you’re right. You know, Malfoy hasn’t insulted me once since we’ve been back at school.”

“Exactly,” Blaise nodded. “He used to pick fights with you for attention, but now he’s getting that attention from elsewhere. I take it you’re willing to help me break them up? I’m not having my friend sell himself out to a teacher; if Draco wants an older man he should at least fuck a rich one who’ll provide him with something beneficial.”

Harry felt the same stab of jealousy hit him again. 

“Of course I’ll help,” Harry said, ignoring that confusing feeling. “I’m not going to let the two of them tear apart a family.”

So, despite the horrible realisation, at least now Harry and Blaise would be able to set things to right.

***

Draco closed his eyes, his hand reaching out to clutch the stone wall as that familiar, delicious sense overwhelmed his senses. 

It was one thing to be around Potter in a classroom or hallway full of other people, but it was another to be completely alone with him. Why did Potter have to choose to walk the exact same way that he was going?

“Are you alright, Malfoy?” Potter called, and Draco had to grit his teeth. 

This intense _need_ he had for Potter wasn’t enjoyable for Draco in the slightest. It was like a constant battle between his own, genuine attraction towards Potter, and the wolf’s desire to claim and dominate. Draco didn’t want to hurt or scare Potter by giving in to the wolf’s needs; he’d rather sacrifice his own desires by staying away from Potter than embracing his animal instinct.

Of course, it would help if Potter could stay away, too.

“I’m fine,” Draco ground out. “Just got a little dizzy for a moment.”

“Are you off to see Remus again?” Potter asked innocently, and Draco spun around to face him. 

Had Potter figured out Draco’s secret? 

“What’s it to you?” Draco snarled, immediately on the defensive. His heart was racing impossibly fast, the heavy beat pounding in his ears so loudly that he was sure Potter must be able to hear it.

Potter held his hands up in front of him, eyes widening in surprise at Draco’s response to his question.

“I’m just wondering; you seem to be spending a lot of time with him, that’s all,” Potter said, scuffing his shoe on the floor. “Have you met Tonks and Teddy? You know, Remus’s wife and son? They’re such a lovely family.”

Potter gave Draco a pointed look, but Draco honestly had no idea why. He certainly didn’t seem to be accusing Draco of being a werewolf, and that was the most important thing.

“Yeah, I know Tonks,” Draco murmured, somewhat bewildered. “She is my cousin, after all.”

“It must be nice for you to see your cousin so happy in her marriage,” Potter continued. “She probably misses Remus a lot while he’s busy teaching and not with her.”

“I guess,” Draco muttered, barely listening to Potter’s words.

Potter was standing right next to Draco now, smelling so sweet and inviting that Draco just wanted to dive in and claim those plump, ruby lips. 

“Malfoy?” Potter asked in concern.

The next thing Draco knew, his hands were against Potter’s chest, pushing him into the wall. Potter’s body felt soft beneath his fingers, and Draco never wanted to let go. He buried his nose against Potter’s neck and breathed in deeply, soaking in that wonderful scent.

Potter cleared his throat, and the sound drove Draco out of his stupor. Draco quickly let go of Potter and stepped back, taking a chance and looking at Potter’s face. Draco expected to see fear or disgust—what he didn’t expect to see was concern and confusion.

“Shut up, Potter,” Draco said, despite the silence, before he turned and fled the corridor.

His feet knew the route by now, and he ran to Remus’s room on instinct alone. Draco didn’t even bother knocking before going inside, storming straight over to the far wall and slamming his fist into it. Pain shot through his hand, the wall hard and rough and the complete opposite to Potter—Draco hit it again.

“Draco!” Remus cried, appearing behind him and grabbing Draco’s arm before he could slam it into the wall again. “Wait a second!”

Remus murmured a spell and let go of Draco’s arm; when Draco hit the wall that time he found it cushioned, but the act of hitting it was enough to get rid of his rage. After a few more swings Draco sank to the floor panting, holding his aching fist close to his face.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked gently, crouching down beside Draco. 

“Potter,” Draco spat. “Your Potter. He brings out the monster in me.”

A noise halfway between a grunt and a sob left his mouth, and he shoved his fist against his lips as he felt tears spring to his eyes. He closed them, refusing to let the tears fall.

Remus considered Draco for a moment. “Did you two get in a fight?”

Draco shook his head. “Worse than that. He was being _nice_ to me, making conversation and everything. So I responded by slamming him into the wall and _breathing_ into his neck. He probably thinks I’m a freak!”

“Harry would never think that,” Remus said seriously. “He judges people on their actions, not their status as human or otherwise.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Why did you slam him against the wall?”

“I don’t know!” Draco cried, running his fingers through his hair and tugging hard at the strands. “I’ve always...I’ve always been _attracted_ to Potter, for years, in fact. After the war ended and he testified for me, I thought maybe we could have a fresh start and we could get to properly know each other instead of fighting. It’s really pathetic, but I used to fantasise about holding his hand and going for walks on the beach, or kissing him under the stars.”

“That’s not pathetic,” Remus said. 

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” Draco shrugged. “Because then I got bitten. Now whenever I see Potter he just smells so damn enticing, and part of me—the _wolf_ part of me—wants to slam him against walls and dominate him and—”

Draco grunted, before realising that he was discussing the filthy things he wanted to do to Potter with one of Potter’s father figures.

“The wolf ruined everything,” Draco continued softly, hating the way his voice sounded so broken. “I was actually going to turn my life around, become a better person and make up for my mistakes, go after the man I wanted and maybe fall in love for the first time. But instead I have to stay away from Potter because I don’t want to scare him off by acting like an animal towards him. I’ve been trying so hard to control myself, but today I lost it, and what if it happens again?”

Draco looked desperately at Remus, hoping that perhaps Remus would wave his wand with a brand new spell which could fix Draco and make everything okay again, make him human again.

But Remus just smiled sadly.

“I’m going to tell you something that you might not want to hear, Draco,” Remus said instead. “But once you accept this, things do get easier, and I wish somebody had said this to me when I was young. The wolf isn’t a separate part of you; it _is_ you. Sometimes it can leave you feeling, like you said, an animal or a monster, but the wolf doesn’t have its own mind. In actuality, the wolf just brings out the primal side in us, but only for things that already exist. You wouldn’t have such strong feelings towards Harry if they didn’t exist in the first place.”

Remus was right; Draco didn’t want to hear that. Deep down, though, he knew it made sense, although Draco wanted to separate himself from the wolf as much as he could. 

“It still doesn’t change the fact that Potter deserves better than me,” Draco grumbled.

“I only found this out once I started seeing Tonks, but it’s actually up to the other person to say who they deserve,” Remus smiled. “Don’t be afraid of going for Harry if you want him. Trust me, Harry would be supportive of you even if you just end up being friends. Remember, Draco; this isn’t about what Harry deserves, but what _you_ deserve.”

Remus pretended not to notice as Draco swiped angrily at his eyes, and patted Draco’s knee gently as he stood up.

Draco plastered on a smirk. “Now would be a good time to offer me chocolate, just so you know.”

***

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about Malfoy.

Being pinned up against a wall by him had certainly been an experience. Harry wasn’t particularly knowledgeable or experienced when it came to sex or relationships, but having Malfoy’s hands holding him in place had been rather enjoyable for Harry—at least it had been until Malfoy had recoiled looking utterly horrified at himself. 

If Harry didn’t know any better, he’d think that Malfoy had a crush on him. But that had to be a stupid idea, because Malfoy _hated_ Harry; or at least he used to. Voldemort had hated Harry, and he definitely never held Harry down and nuzzled his neck.

And then came the question, what was Malfoy doing with Remus if he did fancy Harry? What was he doing with Remus even if he didn’t fancy Harry? Harry still found it hard to believe that Remus would cheat on Tonks with one of his students, but the way Blaise had explained it had made some kind of sense.

Besides, Harry could think of no other possible explanations for why Malfoy spent so much time with Remus. 

Harry had even asked Hermione if she thought somebody who seemed so happy in a relationship would be able to cheat—and after frantically reassuring her that Ron hadn’t said anything in a letter to suggest he was seeing someone else, Hermione agreed that just because everything seemed good on a surface level didn’t mean everything beneath was okay.

Harry was on his way to see Remus, having checked the Marauder’s Map to make sure that Malfoy wasn’t there. He hadn’t minded interrupting them before, but now that he knew there was a strong possibility that they were having a physical relationship, Harry didn’t want to walk in on anything that would twist his stomach.

He told himself that it was because he was upset that Malfoy and Remus were seeing each other with little regard for Tonks and Teddy, but he couldn’t quite ignore the stab of jealousy which hit him every time he thought about Malfoy and Remus together. 

When Harry finally reached Remus’s room, he was welcomed in with a warm smile. Harry really couldn’t imagine Remus willingly betraying Tonks, but then again, Remus had been plagued with self-doubts about their relationship before; perhaps Blaise was right when he thought Remus might be longing for any extra attention to fix that ache that came from self-hatred.

“Hello, Harry,” Remus said, his eyes tired but kind. 

Harry knew there had been a full moon recently, which explained Remus’s weary manner. Luckily Tonks was able to get Wolfsbane Potion from some of her Auror workmates, and though it couldn’t stop the transformations it at least made it a bit easier for Remus.

“How are Tonks and Teddy doing?” Harry asked. He felt guilty for trying to subtly interrogate Remus so soon after the full moon, but it needed doing. 

“They’re fine,” Remus answered with an affectionate smile. “I can’t believe Teddy is over six months old now. Tonks says he’s trying to start a kind of shuffle crawl now; she’s asked me to pop home this weekend to help her baby-proof the house in case his crawling really kicks off.”

Harry grinned. Even though he didn’t get to see Teddy often at the moment, he still felt like a very proud Godfather.

“It must be hard for you, being away from them,” Harry reasoned, wondering if that was perhaps why Remus had turned his attention to another lonely man craving affection.

“We manage,” Remus said. “I go home as often as I can, and we talk through the Floo every night. It’s Teddy I feel I’m missing the most of; babies grow so fast. Next school year I’ll probably commute to Hogwarts because Tonks will be back at work then. I just wanted to be here this year, considering…”

He trailed off, the look on his face suggesting that he knew that Harry didn’t know what he was referencing, and that his word choice had been a mistake. 

“Considering what?” Harry decided to press anyway.

“Nothing,” Remus answered hurriedly. “And, you know, I wanted to be here for you, as well.”

“Just don’t let me keep you from your family,” Harry said seriously. “They both love you a lot, and I wouldn’t want to be the reason you got torn apart.”

Remus frowned in confusion. “You’re not tearing us apart, Harry. Wherever did you get that idea?”

Harry shrugged, because he didn’t exactly want to explain that it wasn’t himself he was talking about but Malfoy. “It just worries me a bit that you’re apart from your family, that’s all. I suppose it’s good you’re here, though; Malfoy certainly seems to be chatting with you a lot.”

Remus visibly tensed for a moment, his shoulders hunching before he forced himself to relax. When Remus smiled next, Harry could tell that it was strained.

“Draco is just going through a tough time,” Remus muttered. “I understand what that’s like.”

Harry nodded, knowing Remus wasn’t going to give any more away than that. 

Still, it was enough proof for Harry that Remus and Malfoy were sharing a secret together. Harry just hoped his efforts to make them both feel guilty were working.

***

Draco sighed as he re-read the letter from his parents. 

_Draco,_

_As you are aware, given your condition, it is not advisable for you to come to the Manor over the Christmas holidays. We shall send you information on property options nearer the spring, as you will have to find your own home before you graduate._

_Kind regards,_

_Lucius and Narcissa._

Draco crumpled the parchment in his hand. They couldn’t even refer to themselves as his mother and father anymore. His family had been through so much together, but one little bite from a werewolf—which was not a little thing, admittedly—and Draco’s parents could hardly stand the sight of him. 

He wasn’t outright disowned, which should have been a bonus, but the only reason they hadn’t was because to do so they would have to explain to anyone who asked, and better to have a secret werewolf son than a disowned but known werewolf one who could still bring shame to the Malfoy name.

Suddenly feeling very much like the room was closing in on him, Draco stood and decided to go for a walk to clear his head. 

Potter and Blaise were sat in the common room as he walked by, sitting far too close which made Draco’s stomach turn, but he ignored it and carried on, pretending like he couldn’t feel Potter’s eyes following his every moment.

Draco reached Remus’s room quickly, almost sending a second-year flying in his haste. He barged into Remus’s room without knocking, shoving the crumpled letter into a surprised Remus’s hands. 

Draco stared at the floor as Remus read, marking the stone with invisible lines with the tip of his shoe. The note was short, so Draco was sure it was only taking so long because Remus was reading it over and over, just like Draco had.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” Remus said eventually, just before the silence became too deafening. “I really am. I wish I could make them change their minds, but there’s no chance of them listening to me.”

“I know,” Draco murmured softly. “It’s not your fault. I’m not even that angry about it; I mostly just feel empty. It gets lonely being a werewolf, doesn’t it?”

Remus nodded sadly. “It does, at times. But once you find friends and people who love you, you’ll be overwhelmed with support. And you know I’m always here for you, Draco; any time. In fact, how would you like to spend Christmas with my family and I? I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but you’re more than welcome.”

For a moment, Draco felt indescribable joy at the simple gesture of being included and treated like a normal human being. Remus was so kind to him, and had been nicer to Draco than anyone else had in his whole life.

But then, “I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Draco muttered. 

Remus had been lucky to find a wife like Tonks, and Draco didn’t want to ruin their family time which they got so little of while Remus was teaching and living at Hogwarts. 

“Tonks would be more than happy to have you there,” Remus said reassuringly. “Andromeda will be over as well, and you’re all family. _We’re_ all family.”

Yes, Draco supposed Remus was his cousin-in-law, as well as his wolf-brother, and Christmas _was_ a time for family.

“Thank you, Remus,” Draco said, mustering up the brightest smile he had managed in days. “I’d be pleased to come.”

***

Harry stepped out into Remus and Tonks’s cottage through the Floo, smiling at the red and green decorations strung up everywhere. It looked like a Christmas shop had exploded in the living room, cheerful and festive. 

Harry had decided to stay with Remus and Tonks over the holidays rather than the Weasleys for a change. He had plans to meet up with Ron and see the others, of course, but he wanted to spend a lot of time with Teddy in particular. 

“What do you think, Harry?” Tonks said in greeting, grinning widely. “Did it all myself.”

“She got her love of Christmas from your Sirius,” Andromeda murmured from the sofa, where she sat bouncing Teddy on her knee. “It’s a bit gaudy for my tastes.”

Harry felt his smile falter at the mention of Sirius, and Andromeda picked up on it instantly.

“Come and hold Teddy,” she offered, subtly offering Harry a distraction. “See, he’s pleased to see you.”

Teddy’s mouth widened in a big, toothless grin, and he reached with chubby arms for Harry as he approached. He was much bigger than the last time Harry had seen him, and was dressed in a reindeer onesie with antlers on the hood. 

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve seen?” Harry gushed, taking the infant into his arms. “Such a big boy now.”

Andromeda smiled, evidently satisfied that her distraction technique had worked. “I’ll go and help Remus and Draco finish making our drinks.”

“Draco?” Harry repeated, eyes snapping to Andromeda at the mention of the name. “As in Draco Malfoy? Why’s he here?”

Harry and Blaise had carried on their investigation into Malfoy’s odd ways, but had discovered he literally only spent time in classrooms, his bedroom, and Remus’s room—and he was with Remus a lot. Blaise had even broken into Malfoy’s room once and found nothing of interest, which only served to confirm the affair theory.

Which was why Harry was flummoxed that Remus had brought his secret lover to the home which he shared with his wife and child.

“Draco’s staying with us over the holidays,” Tonks said brightly. “I feel sorry for the poor lad, considering everything.”

“Considering what?” Harry asked, the same time as Andromeda warningly said, “Nymphadora.”

“Don’t call me that, Mum! Please!” Tonks grumbled, her pink hair turning a deep shade of red. “And nothing in particular, Harry, don’t worry.”

Tonks didn’t seem quite able to meet Harry’s eyes. Maybe Tonks had her own suspicions about Remus but was too upset about it to say anything in front of the guests. 

Andromeda, Remus, and Malfoy came out of the kitchen soon after with a tray full of hot chocolate, loaded up with whipped cream and marshmallows. Malfoy’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw Harry, looking so alarmed that for a moment Harry thought he was actually going to flee the room, but Remus laid his hand gently on Malfoy’s arm which seemed to calm him down.

Tonks didn’t seem to notice the gesture, but the touch looked so tender, so _casual_ , that Harry felt his heart sink. That simple touch told Harry more than any snooping had; there was a deep connection between Remus and Malfoy, and they didn’t even care about flaunting it in front of Tonks. 

Teddy squirmed in Harry’s arms, letting out wordless babble, and Harry couldn’t help but forget his woes and smile at the baby. 

The sofa sank as someone sat down on it, and Harry was surprised to see that it was Malfoy. Malfoy set two mugs on the coffee table in front of them and then sat back, albeit somewhat stiffly.

“He loves his rattle,” Malfoy grunted, sounding as though speaking caused him pain. He cleared his throat, and sounded much healthier when he added, “although I imagine he’ll have a new favourite after he sees all of his Christmas presents.”

“Don’t ruin the surprise for him, Draco,” Tonks joked, taking a seat opposite them. 

Remus sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her forehead lightly. Remus looked utterly smitten and happy, as though Tonks was everything he had ever wanted and more.

Yet somehow everything seemed off. Malfoy was clearly involved with the family, though how he knew all about Teddy’s toys, Harry had no idea. And though Remus and Malfoy were involved in some way, the more Harry saw of Tonks the less she looked like she was struggling to hold everything together; in fact, she looked completely content, and was on very friendly terms with Malfoy.

Perhaps Malfoy and Remus were seeing each other, but Tonks knew about it and allowed it. Harry knew that Bill and Fleur had a polyamorous marriage—something he found out only by accident after he walked in on them in bed with another man who they introduced Harry to later as _their_ boyfriend. 

But the worst scenario was that Tonks was completely oblivious, and Remus for whatever reason was really pushing his limits by having Malfoy around often and inventing a sob story for Malfoy to explain it. That just didn’t seem a thing that Remus would do, though. 

It was all very confusing, perhaps even more so when his heart began to beat fast when his fingers brushed Malfoy’s as he passed Teddy over to him.

It was going to be a long fortnight. 

***

It had been a long fortnight.

Remus had apologised to Draco for not telling him that Harry was going to be staying at the cottage for the holidays, too, but added that he knew Draco wouldn’t have come if he’d known.

Remus was right; Draco would have turned down the offer if he’d known Harry was going to be there.

It hadn’t been totally horrific. Andromeda knew that Draco was a werewolf, but not about his feelings towards Harry. She had insisted on making them sit together, refused to let them call each other by their last names—a change which had stuck now—and usually paired them up for the many games they had played over the last two weeks.

It had been difficult at first. Harry smelt just as wonderful as he always did, although the constant scent of baked goods wafting through the house helped to mute that. But just seeing Harry sitting there, all messy haired and smiling, was enough to get Draco itching to jump on Harry and kiss him hard enough to make them both see stars.

But the more Draco was confronted with Harry, the easier it got to control his urges. It was actually quite satisfying just to brush his leg or arm against Harry’s, or lean against him when they were sat next to each other. Harry would always blush when Draco did that, and after a while Harry had started to do the same thing to Draco. The first time that happened Draco came quite close to pouncing on Harry, but one glance at Harry’s face where he saw that goofy, nervous smile was enough to stop him; Draco didn’t want to do anything to hurt Harry.

Controlling his wolf urges was one thing, but controlling his own emotions was another. It had taken a couple of days, but Harry and Draco soon lost the awkwardness which had accompanied them at the start of the holidays. Once that barrier fell away, Harry quickly opened up to Draco.

They certainly hadn’t become best friends over night, but Harry didn’t think twice about telling Draco the awful jokes that he got out of the crackers. Draco always got Harry to join him whenever it was his turn to play with Teddy, and they’d both come up with several games to play with just the two of them; like betting on which colour Tonks’s hair would turn when her mother called her Nymphadora, or seeing who could score more goals using a ball made out of parchment and an empty bucket. 

Harry was genuinely a kind person, Draco realised. He may not have been to Draco in the past, but that was Draco’s own doing. They had both hurt each other badly, and they’d also saved each other’s lives; there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them that the past was in the past, and that this was their new start.

It was the last night of the holidays now, and he, Remus, and Harry would all be returning to Hogwarts soon. Draco was going to miss being at the cottage, but he knew he’d been living in a bit of a fantasy world. The full moon was coming up in a couple of nights, and as soon as that came any happy, fantasy place that Draco created would come crashing down around him.

It was perhaps for that reason that he couldn’t sleep, worrying in advance about the full moon. He quietly crept out of the cottage to stand on the porch, and was surprised to see Harry there already.

Though Draco wanted to hate the moon, he couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. The sky was clear of clouds, and the bright moonlight shone down and illuminated Harry in its glow. Draco found himself staring for a moment, taken aback by the sight of inky black hair sparkling in the light of the moon.

Harry turned around as though he could sense Draco there, and it was then that Draco could see Harry’s fingers trembling.

“You’re up late,” Draco commented, as though he also wasn’t outside at three in the morning.

“I had a nightmare,” Harry muttered, wrapping his arms around himself as he shivered. “It’s alright. I’m alright.”

Draco wasn’t so sure, but it wasn’t his place to comment on it. After all, he’d been having a minor breakdown ever since he’d been bitten, and he’d been thankful that nobody had queried his mental state.

Draco came and stood by Harry’s side, and they both turned to look at the stars again. There were thousands of them up in the sky, twinkling like fairy lights. 

“What are you doing, Draco?” Harry asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence passed between them. “With Remus, I mean.”

Draco blinked. “With Remus?”

That was odd phrasing if Harry had finally discovered the truth and was confronting Draco about being a werewolf.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Harry muttered, and when Draco shook his head, Harry expanded. “The _affair_.”

Draco was so stunned he could barely believe he had just heard those words leave Harry’s mouth.

“Affair?” he repeated bewilderedly. “With _Remus_? What?”

“Is this one of those things where Tonks is cool with it?” Harry continued, oblivious to Draco’s confusion. “Or are you both keeping her in the dark? Because the three of them are a lovely family, and it’s not fair to ruin it; you both owe it to Tonks to be honest if she doesn’t know.”

Now the shock had worn off, Draco realised that Harry was actually being serious about this affair business. So Draco did the only thing he could think of—he laughed.

He laughed hard, harder than he had laughed for a long, long while. It felt wonderful to laugh like that again, even if it was at his own expense, but his cheeks ached from it and that felt good.

“What?” Harry questioned, taking his turn to look confused. “What’s so funny?”

“Remus and I aren’t having an affair,” Draco said, wiping the joyful tears from the corners of his eyes. “I know that’s what people who are having an affair would say, but we’re really not. Remus is like a father _and_ a brother to me. Wherever would you get the idea that we’re sleeping together?”

Harry shrugged. “Blaise. We both thought you’d been acting strange this year and we wanted to know why. We both noticed how much time you and Remus spend together, and that seemed to be the only conclusion we could come to.”

Remus had been right; people really were blind when it came to certain things. Draco had been convinced that somebody would be able to tell his secret just by looking at him, but apparently even for two nosy people it was hard to discover. That was certainly a relief.

Harry considered Draco thoughtfully. “I’m going to believe you, just because I never wanted to believe it in the first place.”

“Well good.” Draco nodded. “Sleeping with Remus is not something I ever plan on doing; I wouldn’t even want to kiss him. Besides, he isn’t who I want.”

The words slipped out before Draco could stop them, eager as he was to defend his lack of affair with Remus.

But then Draco spotted a scowl on Harry’s face, one that looked distinctly jealous after his mention of ‘somebody else.’

And suddenly Draco was very aware of his proximity to Harry, the sweet, sugary scent of him intensifying Draco’s senses. Harry was glowing under the moonlight, looking angry because of Draco, and all Draco wanted to do was make it better.

He closed the gap between them without even thinking, his lips pressing firmly against Harry’s as he kissed him deeply and clutched at his slim hips with his hands. Harry made a small whimper of surprise, but soon began to kiss Draco back just as eagerly, his fingers linking round the back of Draco’s neck to pull him closer.

Draco pulled back for just a moment so that he could spin Harry round and push him against the wall of the cottage before claiming those sweet tasting red lips again. Harry’s body was warm and soft beneath his, and Draco never wanted this to end.

But then came the familiar tugging feeling inside him, urging Draco to start tearing at Harry’s clothes. Draco ignored it because he’d got good at fighting that itch now, but it made him let go of Harry and take a step back, because who deserved to be kissed by a monster?

“Draco?” Harry asked, his voice soft and uncertain, and Draco realised Harry must have thought he'd done something wrong.

But Draco couldn’t tell Harry the truth about him being a werewolf; that was the whole problem. That instinct had been enough to remind Draco that he wasn’t good enough for Harry, that deep down he was just a vicious monster and Harry would be much better off without him. 

Harry reached a hand towards Draco, and Draco flinched unwillingly. Harry drew his hand back, looking guilty, and Draco couldn’t stand to see the pain on Harry’s face.

“I recommend you ask Slughorn for a Dreamless Sleep potion,” Draco muttered, before yanking the door open and running inside, leaving Harry behind.

Draco collapsed face first onto his bed, letting his emotions out into his pillow. He’d probably ruined any hope for a relationship between him and Harry, but that was for the best. 

Even though it hurt.

***

“What has Draco done to you?” Blaise exclaimed.

Harry spluttered in shock. “Draco hasn’t done anything to me. Has he done something to you?” he said quickly.

Blaise gave him a critical look. “You spend the holidays with Lupin and his family, come back and tell me Draco was there too, and have since spent the past few days as quiet and melancholy as Draco has been since the start of term. So what happened? Does Draco have something contagious and now you’ve caught it?”

“No, nothing like that,” Harry murmured, drawing on his bedsheets with his finger.

Truthfully, Harry hadn’t been able to get that kiss out of his mind. 

He’d been having confusing feelings about Draco for a while, but that kiss only confirmed that Harry was very attracted to Draco and potentially wanted to start a relationship with him. He’d guessed Draco felt the same way until he’d backed away and avoided Harry ever since the kiss. It was confusing, and Harry had no idea what was going on in Draco’s head. He’d not even been able to speak to Draco about it because Draco was staying in bed after catching a magical strain of flu. 

“What’s going on?” Blaise pressed. “Did you see something happen between Lupin and Draco while you were there? Did Lupin’s wife ask you about him because she can tell something’s wrong? What happened?”

Harry sighed; it didn’t look like Blaise was going to let the topic drop.

“Draco kissed me,” Harry admitted quietly, refusing to meet Blaise’s eyes. “And then he freaked out and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

Blaise hummed thoughtfully. Harry had expected him to exclaim something in shock and babble about how surprising it was; not look somewhat disappointed with the announcement as though it had been nothing special.

“And I know our theory about the affair,” Harry continued, trying to fill the awkward silence that had come across them. “But I don’t understand why Draco would kiss me if he was seeing Remus. Plus I really don’t think Remus would flaunt Draco in front of Tonks if he was cheating on her; he’s not like that.”

“Draco _would_ kiss you if he’d fancied you for years,” Blaise reasoned. “Which he has. He never used to shut up about you; he was so smitten. We told him, of course, maybe he needed to stop being a dick if he wanted you to like him but he never listened. To be honest, I thought maybe he was trying to make himself get over you by shagging a teacher.”

Harry blinked. Had Draco really had a crush on him over the years? The way Draco had kissed him had been so desperate and passionate that Harry could easily believe that it was true—ignoring the part where Draco had panicked. 

“How about we just go and ask him what’s going on?” Blaise suggested. “Find out what he’s actually doing with Lupin, and ask him why he’s been acting so strangely? And if Draco won’t tell us then we’ll go straight to Lupin and tell him that we demand the truth, otherwise we’ll get McGonagall involved.”

Harry nodded, eager to finally get answers when he remembered something that put a massive flaw in the plan. “We can’t go and pester Remus tonight; he’ll still be recovering from the full moon.”

Blaise’s eyes widened, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. 

“What?” Harry asked, oblivious.

“Lupin’s a _werewolf_ ,” Blaise said.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Harry cut in with a huff. “There’s those new anti-hate laws-”

“I know that,” Blaise hissed. “I’m not hating on Lupin. But he is a werewolf, and Draco is spending a lot of time with said werewolf. How many times has Draco been in bed sick since we’ve been back at school? At least once a month, I’d say; including now, which just so happens to be right after a full moon.”

Realisation was beginning to dawn on Harry, and somehow all the odd pieces of the puzzle started to fit together. Draco was often pale and withdrawn like Remus often was; he avoided everyone including his friend, in a society where werewolves were looked down upon; he frequently spent his time with the only werewolf in the area, and was comfortable with said werewolf's family who claimed to know about Draco’s situation. Unlike the affair theory, the werewolf one made complete sense. 

“Oh, God,” Harry murmured. “I think you’re right.”

Blaise looked furious. “I know I am,” he growled, before storming out of the room.

Harry followed, certain he was going to confront Draco, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the door of Draco’s room swing shut with Blaise nowhere in sight. 

Harry went in after Blaise, who he found looming over Draco’s bed. Draco himself had sat up in alarm, looking up at Blaise bewilderedly. 

“Are you a werewolf?” Blaise demanded, shrugging Harry off when he placed his hand on Blaise’s shoulder to try and calm him down. “Don’t lie to me, Draco; just tell me the truth.”

Draco’s shoulders hunched and he bowed his head; Harry could see his fingers trembling on the sheets. Then, very subtly, Draco nodded.

“How could you not tell me?!” Blaise cried. “I thought we were friends! Thank you _so_ much for having faith in me.”

He barged past Harry as he stormed out of the room, but not before Harry could catch a glimpse of the distraught look on his face.

Draco still hadn’t looked up, and his body was tense as if he was ready to pounce at any given moment.

Harry sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed and placed his fingers over Draco’s.

“I don’t care if you’re a werewolf,” Harry murmured softly. “It doesn’t change who you are as a person.”

Draco’s head snapped up, his grey eyes bearing glints of amber which Harry had never noticed before.

“How can you say that?” Draco snarled. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re not,” Harry urged, shifting up the bed a bit more. “You’re not.”

Without warning, Harry found himself on his back with Draco hovering over him. Yet again Harry found his heart racing with that jolt of adrenaline, the same feeling he had gotten when Draco had pushed him against a wall those two times. He knew he shouldn’t enjoy it, but he really, really did.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew the things I wanted to do to you,” Draco said lowly. “How I want to kiss your lips until they bleed, fuck you until you’re screaming my name, have you as mine to cherish forever.”

But, as Harry was a teenager with eager hormones, his body’s reaction was enough to answer Draco’s unasked question.

“Are you enjoying this?” Draco asked wildly, the look of utter confusion on his face ruining whatever effect he had been trying to go for before.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered. “But kindof. Apparently I like the rough stuff.”

Draco sat back and pulled Harry up with him, both of them sat inches apart from each other on the bed. 

“This isn’t just rough stuff,” Draco said quietly. “Harry, I have found you attractive for a long time. I thought you were a twat, too, but I’ve seen past that side of you now. But your scent drives me crazy; it gives me—gives the _wolf_ —all these urges which I try and ignore, and the more I’m around you the more control I get, but what if I lose control? I don’t want to hurt you one day. You’re much safer away from me.”

“You think I can’t defend myself if I need to?” Harry scoffed. “I want to be with you, Draco, werewolf or not, urges or not. It’s your choice if you want to date me, but if you’re worried about hurting me then don’t be. It’s something we can work on together if you want. And honestly, aside from pinning me to various surfaces you’ve managed to avoid hurting me so far, and I rather liked the surface pinning.”

Draco’s head fell forwards again, and his shoulders were shaking so hard that Harry thought Draco was crying. But then Draco clutched Harry’s arms and tugged him towards him, and Harry realised that Draco was laughing.

“You are going to be the death of me, Harry Potter,” Draco grinned, and then he kissed Harry hard. 

***

Draco walked hand-in-hand with Harry as they strolled the grounds of Hogwarts.

They’d been dating for almost two months now, and things were going better than Draco could have ever hoped. Harry was sweet and caring, he had a witty sense of humour, and he had a competitive streak that complimented Draco’s perfectly. 

They could make anything into a game, and usually no matter who won they could both laugh about it in the end. 

Sometimes Draco almost forgot that he was still a werewolf, but, of course, it was something he could never truly forget. The wolf was part of him, and like Remus had suggested he do, Draco was slowly starting to accept that.

Harry was incredibly supportive of him, and even though there were things that Harry would never be able to understand unless he became a werewolf himself, Harry’s mere presence was enough to get Draco through sometimes. 

And while Draco had once been worried that he would lose control of his urges and hurt Harry, that had yet to happen. In fact, Harry seemed to encourage Draco to be a bit rough with him at times which Draco enjoyed himself, and which also satisfied the wolf’s urges. 

Blaise, meanwhile, still wasn’t speaking to Draco but he hadn’t told anyone his secret. Harry said that Blaise was upset that Draco hadn’t trusted him, rather than being upset for discovering his best friend was a werewolf. Draco could understand that, but he wasn’t going to talk to Blaise until he apologised toDraco for being an arse about it.

Draco did miss Blaise, but he still had Remus and Harry to keep him company. Even Granger was making an effort to be nice to Draco, though she admitted it was mainly for Harry's sake. She also confided in him that she’d discovered his secret almost right away, the know-it-all that she was, but she hadn’t once considered telling Harry or anyone else. Draco had to admit he reluctantly respected her for that.

He and Harry reached their favourite patch of grass underneath one of the few trees that wasn’t bare. The patch was hidden from view from most directions and was a nice little private place to spend time. It was also the place where Harry had given Draco a blowjob for the first time, but that wasn’t the reason it was Draco’s favourite spot—although it did help. 

Draco sat cross-legged on the ground and Harry joined him, his lips quickly finding Draco’s. Draco moaned with desire and pulled Harry onto his lap, his hands sliding down the back of Harry’s body until they reached his arse. Draco gave Harry’s cheeks a good squeeze, which had Harry whimpering into the kiss.

Harry’s hands curled around the back of Draco’s neck, and his fingers ghosted down to graze the crescent shaped scar which lingered there.

“You still haven’t told me how this happened,” Harry murmured against Draco’s lips, sitting back a bit so he could see Draco properly. 

Draco frowned. “It’s not that I don’t want you to know. It’s just that I’m ashamed about what that one night did to my life.”

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know I have nightmares every night, don’t you?”

Draco nodded. There had been many a night they’d spent in Draco’s bed together where Draco had had to wake Harry up from his nightmares and hold him until he stopped shivering. Harry never told Draco what they were about, though, although Draco had a feeling that he was about to.

“Well,” Harry continued quietly. “You, Hermione, Blaise, Remus...you all think I’m dreaming about the war and about Voldemort; that’s not entirely true. Sometimes I do dream about that, but other times I dream about my childhood. My aunt and uncle weren’t nice to me; they put clothes on my back and food on my plate, but only ever enough so that they wouldn't get in trouble. For the first nine years I lived with them my bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs; that’s where I keep going in my nightmares, back to that cupboard.”

Draco’s hands tightened on Harry’s hips, as though holding Harry close to him would stop anyone hurting him ever again. 

“I’ll kill them,” Draco growled. “Those Merlin-awful _Muggles_ …”

“It’s alright,” Harry cut in quickly. “I never have to see them again, so it’s alright. I never told anyone where they made me sleep, not even my closest friends, because I was so ashamed of it. I tried to kid myself into thinking it wasn’t that bad, but I know it was because otherwise I wouldn’t be so determined to keep it a secret. But I’m beginning to understand that it’s not my fault they treated me like that, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

Draco leant in to kiss Harry’s lips gently, resting their foreheads together as they pulled apart.

“Greyback bit me,” Draco said quietly. Only Remus had heard this story, and that had only been the once; Draco had tried not to think of it since. “As you know he managed to escape Hogwarts after the battle before the Aurors could bring him in. It was a couple of weeks afterwards that my father claimed to have seen him in the trees by the manor, but no search teams could find him; that was because by that point he was already in the house. He waited until nightfall, took Wolfsbane, and purposefully sought me out; he later claimed that he wanted to punish my father for turning his back on the Dark Lord at the end. Greyback never cared about the Dark Lord, though; he spent a lot of time in the manor during the war, and he frequently told me he longed to bite me.”

“Greyback is an awful person,” Harry said, his fingers gently playing with strands of Draco’s hair which was rather calming. “You never deserved to have him hunt you down like that. I know you still see yourself as a monster, but just compare yourself to Greyback and you’ll see what a monster really is.”

“I love you.”

The words were out of his mouth before Draco could stop them, and there was no way of taking them back. 

But then Harry was kissing him furiously, driving all worries from Draco’s head. “I love you, too,” Harry murmured, grinning against Draco’s lips.

“How very cute.”

Harry fell of Draco’s lap as he spun around to see who was talking, and Blaise grinned.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Blaise continued, stepping over Harry who was sprawled on the ground. “But I wanted to talk to you, Draco.”

Draco was about to tell Blaise just where he could go, when Harry answered for him.

“Draco would love to hear what you have to say. I’ll see you in a bit, Draco.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise as Harry left. “I don’t care what you-”

“I’m sorry,” Blaise interrupted. “I’m sorry I was a jerk to you, and I understand now that it must be hard to tell people that you’re a werewolf considering the societal implications of being one.”

“The societal implications?” Draco repeated teasingly. “I think you’ve been talking to Granger about this.”

Blaise rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Granger’s wise, I’ll give her that. The thing is, Draco, I just felt hurt that you thought I’d hate you. I know I hate a lot of people, but you’re not one of them. Didn’t we always say we’d be there for each other no matter what?”

“I know,” Draco said softly, adding reluctantly, “and I’m sorry, too. I know I should have told you; I just didn’t want to. Those societal implications of being a werewolf can really affect your mindset.”

“There’s the mocking Draco I know and missed,” Blaise said with another grin. “So are things good between us now?”

Draco nodded, trying not to show how pleased he was with the turn of events. “We’re good.”

***

Harry made an ‘hmm’ noise, nodding as he pretended to pay attention to what Terry Boot was talking to him about. Terry was a decent enough bloke, but incredibly boring; talking to him was akin to watching paint dry.

Terry laughe so Harry laughed too, hoping that was the correct response to whatever Terry had found amusing.

Instead of listening, Harry was watching Draco out of the corner of his eye. Draco was sat playing chess with Blaise in one of the corners of the common room; it was nice to see the two of them back together, and Harry was pleased he finally talked Blaise into apologising to Draco.

So far only Blaise and Hermione knew that Harry and Draco were dating, even though it had been four months now, which was perhaps why Terry didn’t think anything of running his fingers up Harry’s arm.

Harry instinctively pulled his arm back. Terry looked confused, but only for a moment because the next thing Harry knew Terry was against the wall with Draco jabbing his wand into Terry’s throat.

“Give me a reason, Boot; I dare you,” Draco hissed, the tip of his wand glowing dangerously red. “I mean it.”

Terry’s hands flew up in defence. “What did I do?” he stammered, looking between Harry and Draco with wild eyes.

“Draco,” Harry said, and just the sound of his voice seemed to be enough to snap Draco out of his mood swing.

The entire common room was staring at Draco now, but he barely spared them a glance as he ran to his room. Harry was close on his tail, managing to make it into Draco's room before the door could slam shut in his face.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, watching in concern as Draco hunched over the bed, panting.

“Of course I’m not,” Draco muttered, laughing humorlessly. “I barely managed to stop myself from tearing Terry apart for touching you like that. Believe it or not, Harry, I’m not actually normally this possessive; it’s just this fucking _wolf_.”

Harry stood behind Draco, pressing his chest close to Draco’s back, and burying his head against Draco’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and felt Draco relax instantly.

“I’m yours, Draco, nobody else's,” Harry murmured. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Draco sighed, and suddenly Harry found himself spun onto the bed, with Draco crawling atop of him.

Draco kissed him soundly, and when Harry went to cup Draco’s cheeks he found his wrists pinned above his head. Harry knew that as much as he liked some rough play in the bedroom, sometimes for Draco it was more than just a bit of fun; there were times when Draco needed to be dominant and rough to convince himself that he was good enough for Harry, and that Harry really wanted him. Of course, Harry was more than happy to oblige when Draco needed that.

Draco used his wand to remove their clothing before he tossed it aside and reached for some lube. Keeping Harry’s wrists pinned with one hand, Draco used the other to squeeze some of the gel onto his fingers before moving his hand between Harry’s legs.

Draco wasted no time pushing a slick finger inside Harry, swiftly followed by another one. Harry moaned loudly as Draco fingered him, arching his back when Draco found his prostate which had Harry seeing stars.

“You’re mine, Harry, nobody else’s,” Draco murmured as he added a third finger. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“God, I-uh-, love you, too,” Harry grunted, his words dissolving into moans as Draco’s fingers fucked into him hard and fast. 

Draco pulled his fingers out of Harry and quickly lubed up his erection before positioning himself between Harry’s legs and pushing inside. Harry closed his eyes as he was filled to the brim with Draco's cock, and wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist to bring him in deeper.

Draco buried his face in Harry’s neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin as he thrust into Harry hard, fucking him good and deep. His grip around Harry’s wrists was bruising, but that hint of pain only heightened the pleasure of Draco slamming into his prostate with almost every thrust.

Draco bit down hard on Harry's collar bone as he came inside him, with a cry of Harry’s name on his lips. He pulled out of Harry, releasing his wrists so that he could move down Harry’s body to take his neglected cock into his mouth.

Harry whimpered, gripping hard at Draco’s hair as the wet warmth of Draco’s mouth enveloped his cock. Two of Draco’s fingers pushed at the sensitive rim of his arse, sliding inside and fucking him easily until Harry came from the dual sensations.

Draco crawled back up Harry’s body and collapsed bonelessly on his chest, exhausted. He brought his sticky fingers to Harry's mouth, and Harry took his time slowly licking and sucking the digits clean. 

Now that Draco had that out of his system he would be a lot more relaxed, and Harry was as equally content to rest after a good fucking. He held onto Draco tightly, feeling the heavy thrumming of Draco’s heartbeat against his chest.

It was these kinds of moments that Harry cherished the most, the moments when it was just the two of them together in such an intimate way. Harry truly did feel loved.

And that was a wonderful feeling.

***

The rest of the school year seemed to pass in a blur. The full moons came and went like clockwork every month, but with not just Remus, but Harry and Blaise on his side as well, Draco seemed to be coping better than ever.

His relationship with Harry was going well, and Draco’s fear that Harry was going to leave him, claiming the Lycanthropy was too much for him, lessened with each full moon and Harry’s unwavering support. Draco didn’t think he’d ever been so happy in his life than when he was with Harry.

They’d even agreed that they’d live at 12, Grimmauld Place temporarily while they looked for an apartment of their own. Draco had had great pleasure in tearing up the information his parents had sent him about different properties that were for sale. 

It felt good that there was one steady thing in Draco’s life. Remus had been honest and told him the difficulties about holding down a job as a werewolf. Most employers checked the Ministry records and therefore wouldn’t hire werewolves right from the start, while others who didn’t bother with the checks either figured it out when they had to call in sick after every full moon, or just got fed up with them having so much time off each month. It would be hard, Remus had said, even with the new anti-discrimination laws now put in place, but he had every faith in Draco’s abilities. He’d even suggested that Draco did freelance work, so even though it wouldn’t be a steady income each month it at least prevented being mistreated as he could work on his own terms.

It was something to think about, but for now Draco was just going to enjoy his last day of Hogwarts, and the graduation ceremony. It wasn’t much of an event—just the seventh and eighth-years gathered together for a small party with the professors. Still, even though Draco didn’t get on with most of the people there, he enjoyed feeling like a regular student again.

“Draco,” Remus said, emerging through the crowd looking rather flustered. Once again, Remus had been a rather popular teacher over the year, and throughout the evening many of the students had accosted him to say goodbye. “How are you feeling?”

Draco shrugged casually. “I’m alright. I’m going to start thinking about careers and money tomorrow; for now, I want to enjoy my last day as a student.”

Remus smiled brightly, and clasped Draco’s shoulder tightly.

“I’m proud of you, Draco,” Remus said. “You’ve not had an easy year but you’ve coped brilliantly with the changes in your life. I hope you know that I’ll still be there for you whenever you need me; you’re welcome at the cottage any time.”

Draco inclined his head, before holding out his hand for Remus to shake. Remus took it, and Draco tugged him forwards into a hug, clutching onto him tightly.

“Thank you for everything, Remus,” Draco murmured. “I wouldn’t have been able to manage with any of this if it hadn’t been for you.”

“Of course,” Remus smiled, taking a step back as Draco released him. “We’re brothers of a sort, you and me. Ah, Harry!”

Harry was on Draco without a sound, though the sugary, cinammony scent had given him away. Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s shoulders to pull him close and kissed him firmly on the cheek.

“Can you believe it?” Harry said quickly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “After today we’re officially going to be proper adults.”

It was a comfort to Draco knowing that Harry was almost as nervous as he was about entering the working world. Even though their experiences would be different, it was nice to start in a new direction together.

“Your mother and father would be so proud of you, Harry,” Remus murmured gently, the smile on his face now somewhat sad. Both of you have been brilliant students, and you’re both going to go far. Now if you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to give Hermione my letter of recommendation for her.”

After a fun few hours the party drew to a close, and the graduating students queued by the doors waiting to take a boat across the lake, finishing Hogwarts the way they had started it. 

Draco paused by the front door when it got to their turn, allowing himself one last look at the view of the sparkling waters of the Great Lake from the castle

Harry took his hand, linking their fingers together.

“Scared, Malfoy?” Harry teased.

Draco gave Harry a smirk. “You wish.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are extremely welcome either here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-fan-fair.livejournal.com/119400.html).


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